


Sweet Granadilla

by Denzer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: ...Or Something Similar, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is a Mess, Blame RedRoseWhite, Dubious Consent, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I Can't Believe I Wrote This, May the Fourth Exchange, Rey Needs A Hug, That's Not How The Force Works, The Sacred Jedi Texts contain some shady info..., Virgin Rey (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24003568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denzer/pseuds/Denzer
Summary: This is my May the 4th Response to averyspecific prompt from RedRoseWhite:"Sex pollen!The link formed during the interrogation in TFA has infected Rey with Darkside energy that manifests itself in uncontrollable lust when she sees Kylo Ren, like to the point of trying to hump his leg.Otherwise, Rey is her normal self.The only cure is for him to bring her to orgasm, the how doesn’t matter. Go!"OMG - you can all blame her for this travesty of smut.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 33
Kudos: 127





	Sweet Granadilla

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedRoseWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRoseWhite/gifts).



“He has to do _what_?”

Rey is sputtering, leaning forward with her fists clenched tight against her sides, toward a decidedly pink-cheeked Luke.

“Rey, I've told you all I know.”

He hands her the ancient tome, arm outstretched and neck strained with keeping his unprotected face as far from her as he can.

“It's all in here, if you need to verify it.”

She snatches the book and holds it high in the air behind her shoulder, aiming it at Luke's forehead.

“Is this a joke? Some kind of Jedi initiation prank? Because this is a real problem, Luke! I can't fight him if I'm... well, you know...”

Luke shakes his head, looks wistfully at the ocean as if he wants nothing more than to jump headlong into it.

“I suspect that was Ben's intention when he infected you. To incapacitate you through... well, you know...”

He raises one eyebrow in a sardonic expression that makes her blood boil.

Rey throws the book in an arc across the room. It crashes into the stone wall and ricochets to the floor.

“Hey!” Luke cries from his perch at the side of the pool, “Sacred Jedi Text!”

Rey raises her chin and barely contains the urge to stomp her foot. Then, she stalks to where the book has fallen open, on the very page that discusses the use of 'Seeding Dark Side Energy in an Opponent in order to Disable them with Lust.'

She gingerly picks the volume from the ground and snaps it closed.

“I'll review the theory, Master, and attempt to formulate an alternate solution. Because allowing Kylo Ren to give me an orgasm, is simply... not an option.”

Rey doesn't think her chin could get any higher, or her voice any more prim.

Luke nods once, knowing, with absolute certainty, that there is no alternate solution for this particular mind trick. He continues staring out to sea, as if he could will the girl from the room just by vehemently ignoring her presence.

Rey is carelessly smearing the drop of fruit juice that has dripped from her chin across the archaic page when the Bond opens again.

She drops the Sweet Granadilla fruit, snaps to a stand, and squeezes her eyes shut.

Perhaps, if she cannot _see_ him, the events of their last encounter will not manifest quite as strongly.

“What are you doing, Rey?”

Gods, his voice is so deep and sexy when it's deadpan and tinged with amusement. She could listen to him talk for hours. She wonders how he would sound if he moaned her name as he- STOP!

She brings both her palms to cover her closed eyes, though that particular tactic is, quite obviously, not effective.

“I'm reading about Dark Side Seeding, you _pervert_!”

He chuckles a low huff of breath that Rey feels all the way down to her centre.

It's quiet for a moment, during which time Rey feels the warmth spread across her chest and up toward her cheeks. She's remembering the last time the Bond connected them, how she had thrown her blaster to the floor, stalked toward him, and pulled his face to hers. She'd been saved from kissing him by the Bond slipping away the moment before contact.

It's worse this time, that unfamiliar throbbing sensation already feels like too much.

Ben sighs and she hears him shift uncomfortably.

“Look, if it's any consolation, I didn't think the reaction would be quite that potent.”

Rey reaches out with the Force and levitates the small stool she had been sitting on, shooting it in the general direction of that low, seductive voice. How could hepossibly have the gall to sound so genuinely apologetic in the face of this humiliating scenario.

“If you're so sorry, you should _fix_ it,” she says and already her voice has turned breathy and high. Her lip trembles.

“I... I can?” he says, with something like reticence, or hope. He sounds closer to her than he was a moment ago.

Rey backs away so fast her spine crashes into the rough rock of the hut. Her eyes are still squashed shut behind the mound of her thumbs.

“Not like that!” she wants to shout but it comes out more like a whine, “Find another way, Ben!”

“Stop calling me that.”

It's his tone that does it, the baffled longing laced through the order he gives her. There should be anger there, but Rey does not sense it from him.

She takes her hands away from her eyes and looks at him.

He's naked from the waist up, skin glistening with water and Bacta oil. His hair is wet and mussed. He is looking at her through the strands that have fallen over his eyes, with a stare so intense that everything inside her clenches tight. He seems almost... lost, like Rey is some kind of marker that will show him where he is, on a starmap.

Rey feels that look in her whole body, knows it wouldn't matter where he touched her now, her face, hand, or shoulder, she would feel it somewhere else entirely. She presses her back hard against the jagged stone, jamming her legs together, squirming in place.

Ben raises his hands in the universal gesture for surrender and Rey twists away from him with a keening sound.

His hands are _huge_.

All of him is huge, oversized hard planes of muscle and sinew and maybe if she could just lay her hands flat on his chest, that would be enough to break this thing.

If she could just run her tongue along the trail of droplets that have fallen from his hair onto his long collarbone, it might be enough to stop her wanting more.

“Rey,” he says, as she fists her hands into the fabric of her tunic to stop them drifting, “I never thought it would be so overpowering. I had no idea...”

He takes a small step toward her, arms still raised, and Rey shrieks at him, desperate.

“Don't touch me, Ben!”

He backs up immediately, all the way to the opposite wall of this tiny room, and runs a hand through his wet hair, mouth working.

She tries not to look but it's impossible. He's like the only shadow in a blinding room, like her irises will burn if she does not stare at him.

And the worst part is, she can see it, this effect is not entirely one-sided. His trousers are thin, silky sleep pants and it's hard to miss the distinct outline beneath them. He is oversized, _everywhere_.

She groans and thuds the back of her head off the wall.

“Get out!”

“You know I can't. I'm not controlling the Bond, that's something else.”

She's going to die. She's going to burn up and whisp away like smoke.

Her breathing is shakey and rapid, her fingers twist the fabric until the joints of her knuckles pop but there is still no relief from the fire that races from her core to every single part of her body.

If this doesn't stop soon she will tear out her eyes, she will pull at her hair and wrench until the pain eclipses this _want_ that is flaring through her.

“Rey,” he calls over her frantic breathing, “I could try, without touching you...” he trails off and it is the first time she has heard him sound truly unsure of himself.

“I could try to make you...” he falters again when she releases a high-pitched whine but then he gathers himself, resolute.

“I don't know if it will work, but I could... use the Force.”

She focuses on him intently, her eyes snapping to meet his through the haze of the awful heated fog that clouds her every thought.

“How?”

“I'd have to get closer, but I swear, I won't touch you.”

He's not lying. He never lies.

Gods, those arms would feel so good wrapped around her. Rey thinks they could hold her up, against this wall. They look strong enough to rip the thin fabric of her clothing and push her down while he-

“Fine! Just make this stop!” She yells her assent at him.

He walks toward her as if each step is an effort, as if he's treading through a sinking-field. When he is directly in front of her, looking down his long nose at her, he raises his arms slowly and places his palms on the wall at either side of her shoulders.

“Ready?” he whispers, and she gives him a long, agonized moan in response.

Ben takes a deep steadying breath.

He does nothing for a moment, as if he's deciding how to go about this. Then, he meets her eyes again, pinning her with the earnestness she finds there.

“We can stop... _whenever_ you want. Just tell me and I'll stop, OK?”

Rey twists her fingers so hard into her tunic that she feels the fabric tear.

“OK, Ben.”

His eyes close and his whole face relaxes.

Rey's fingers release from the spiral of fabric she has knotted in her clothing. She only barely stops herself from surging forward to bring her lips to his. Instead, she places her hands on his chest, letting some of her energy seep into him, helping him to ground himself in the Force.

His whole body tenses at her touch and the tautening of muscle beneath her palms nearly sends her over the edge.

Rey focuses hard on the calm he is desperately trying to create within himself.

His skin is so hot it's like touching a smooth plane of scorched redwood. She can feel his breath on her cheek, slow and deep. She cannot close her eyes, cannot look away from him, until she feels what he is doing.

It starts with nothing but a gentle caress through the Bond, testing, searching for where she feels this burning desire the most. Even that is enough to make her gasp and cry out.

He frowns in concentration, tilting his chin to the side, determined.

_There_.

It's like sunbeams. It's like spending hours scavenging in the darkest bowels of a wreck and then coming out to midday Jakku light. It's blinding.

Ben doesn't stop, though she feels something like distress ripple through him.

He presses into her, sinking his consciousness until she is filled with him, swollen and hot, and then he _moves_.

Rey thrums with the ghost of his touch.

She cannot stop the sounds that erupt from her any more than she can stop herself from pressing her face to his sternum. She muffles her escalating cries with his damp skin. Beneath her cheek, she feels the rumble of Ben's short, helpless groan.

Good, she thinks, he deserves to hurt for what he's done to her.

Relentless, he drives her higher and the Bond is white-hot between them. She catches snippets of his thoughts and they make her breath hitch and run from her in keening waves.

_So beautiful._

_More... Here?_

_Gods, please, make that sound again._

_I want... I need to... No... I swore I wouldn't touch her._

Ben's arms shake as he presses his hands into the rock. His body is trembling with effort.

Minutes, that's all it takes before her legs begin to quiver and her body feels coiled tight, inching toward a precipice she has never reached before.

She makes sounds with both her exhale and her inhale now.

Her hands lift high and clamp around his neck, pulling his forehead to hers.

“Rey...Fuck,” he says, like he's angry, like he's grasping the wall to keep from punching a hole through the stone.

It's the sound of her name in his mouth that drives her headlong into a blazing climax.

She is flying. She is screaming, she is pulsing, she is calling his name over and over. Ben's need to touch her is soaring through the Bond.

He holds still, shaking, a tight wall of quivering muscle, catching her hard, panting breaths with an open mouth that he _will_ _not_ bring to hers.

She feels his conviction to keep his word as strong as his hunger to break it.

Rey wilts against the wall, eyes closed.

The wanting should have stopped now, but somehow, it has merely been replaced with another desire. The trembling heat of Ben's body surrounds her and she wants nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around her and pull her to him. She wants to kiss him, for him to hold her and press his lips to her skin. She wants him to lay her down and stay beside her until the brightness of her world recedes.

“Rey.”

She looks up at him.

His face is flushed and his eyes are glassy and unfocused.

He looks tortured, pleading.

“I should never have... I'm sorry... I had no idea what I was doing...”

She knows he means using the Dark Side Seeding trick on her but she feels loose and heady and sated and somehow triumphant.

“Really? It seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing, Ben.”

Her voice comes out low and dirty.

Rey's eyes drop to the tented bulge in his pants and Ben stops breathing entirely, watching her with something akin to fear as her hand slips lower, tracing the curves of muscle that ridge his abdomen.

In a cosmic moment of pure vengeance, the Force sways around them and the Bond snaps out. He's gone in a blink, back to whatever cold starship he was in before the Force called them together.

She sinks to a crouch against the wall, unable to decide whether what she feels right now is relief or disappointment.

Eventually, she comes to her senses again, like coming down from a great height.

That will _teach_ him, she thinks, as she drags herself into her bed for the first night of deep and restful sleep she has ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> OMG I cannot believe I wrote this. I am so embarrassed of myself right now.  
> In my defense... _nope_ , I got nothing. There is no defense for this.  
> My apologies.


End file.
